The Rise of Evil, a Harry Potter Dresden Files
by Kaeim
Summary: Harry, after the events of 5th year was depressed. Hating his life, hating everything, he accidently picked up a coin, but not just any coin, a Denarians coin. What will happen to Harry with a demon in his head and incredible new powers? Read and find out
1. Harry's work and a prophecy

Harry Potter and the Dresden Files

**Harry Potter and the Dresden Files**

**Chapter 1, Harry's work and a prophecy**

Just a note to all my dedicated readers that _all _stories will be on hiatus. Annoying, I know, I feel the same way, but I just don't have the spirit to continue it, it appears. -Makes sad face-

_Summer Holidays, year, 2002_

_Before Harry's sixth year_

Harry lay on his bed, his mind empty of all thoughts and feelings, nothing entering his mind. While most people, namely the Dursleys, would've regarded this as nothing other than laziness, the truth was, in reality that it wasn't. In fact, if it was then not only would Harry count it as a blessing, but others as well, namely Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts and Remus Lupin, now the godfather of Harry, although Harry didn't know it yet.

Harry had basically spent the last few days just lying there, prone and unmoving, his face staring at the ceiling, looking, but not looking.In fact, the only time that Harry _had _left his room was to go downstairs to eat, and he didn't eat that much either. Needless to say, he didn't care much these days for anything. He often neglected his owl, Hedwig, hardly giving her owl treats or food anymore, in fact, it got so bad that Hedwig had left him only a few days into the summer, presumably to the wilderness until her master had recovered from his illness. If ever...

Unlike most pets, Hedwig was an intelligent beast, she was fully aware of her surroundings and she was tuned into Harry's feelings, although Harry knew it not. She had been ever since first year when Harry, suffering from the attentions of all those hanger-ons fled to the Owlry, her nesting place, where he stayed for the rest of the day, just stroking and talking to Hedwig. For that, he had the eternal loyalty of Hedwig. If she could, she would die for him.

Of course, the disappearance of Hedwig caused several problems for the Dursleys, although they didn't know it. As far as they were concerned, apart from their _freak _nephew, everything was just normal. They had blocked out the memory of the confrontation at the train station and were under the assumption that their nephew was fulfilling the requirementsthat had been set by the Order members. Their policy with Harry was "if you ignore me, we'll ignore you". They hadn't even set him any chores! And so, it was to their great surprise that just four days after the confrontation, there was a knocking at the door.

--

Knock, knock, knock.

Vernon Dursley looked up from the newspaper he was reading in his comfortable armchair. He had just been reading about a terrible incident in which a bridge had somehow collapsed after just ten years of service. The newspaper, the Daily Mail, was laying the blame firmly at the feet of the Prime Minister. That was Labor for you, a bunch of pansies that had no idea how this country worked. A firm hand and a belt was what were needed! It was the conservatives that had the right idea for this nation, a proper, hard-working party that would make sure things were working properly. No doubt they'd stop the recent bouts of vandalism that had just occurred as soon as Dudley had returned from school. Still, Dudley could certainly take care of himself!

Knock, knock, knock.

'Petunia, darling?' Vernon called out. 'Someone's at the door!'

'I'm upstairs, dear; can you please get it for me?'

Vernon's face scowled, women these days. Most of them had become far too lazy these days. In his father's day, women knew their place. Their goals in life were to cook the meal for the men of the house, stay in the house once they reached their thirties and had come past it. Now, these days they were everywhere, working in _men's _jobs! Now they were doctors where they used to be nurses. Now they were business women where they used to be secretaries. Now they were -

Knock, knock, knock!

'Yes, yes alright! I'm coming!' Vernon bellowed, putting his newspaper to one side and getting up, clutching his tummy as he did so. He grimaced a bit; he seemed to be getting a lot of stomach aches these days. He would have to talk to Petunia about that later; probably it was her cooking that did it.

He opened the door, hoping that it was a salesman. They were always good to have a rant at after a nice spot of lunch. As he opened it, his stomach suddenly gave a lurch of shock. It was one of the freaks from the train station! He quickly made to close it, slamming the door just as a foot blocked it from closing. The freak then forced it open, his seemingly frail body having muscles in it. He advanced upon the now stuttering Vernon.

'Hello, Mr. Dursley,' the freak said calmly, halting in front of Vernon who was backed against a wall. 'I assume you remember me from the station, my name isRemus Lupin.' While Remus' voice was level, there was clearly a steely tone that seemed to hide an animal growl and the promise of being torn apart.

'I also assume that you remember our conversation as well, with our little agreement?' He enhanced the last word.'

Vernon finally found his voice. 'Yes, I do remember as a matter of fact. I remember you threatening me and my family. And we've kept to it as well. We've fed the boy, we've kept his room clean and we've allowed him to keep his _school _equipment as well.' Vernon was clearly more confident now in his speaking. 'So what do _you _want?'

Lupin stood to his full height, clearly taller than Vernon by a head. 'Incorrect, _Dursley_, the terms _haven't _been kept, we clearly stated that Harry was to send an owl _every _three days, and we've yet to receive _one_. So where is he, _Dursley_?'

Now, Vernon didn't count himself as a coward, he was more than willing to stand up for what he believed in, but at that moment he could see something in the man's eyes, a hint of red, a hint of the Big, Bad Wolf that his mother used to tell stories when he was no more than a child.

'Th - the boy - Harry - is in his bedroom, has been ever since he came back from the train station, he's been quiet as a mouse, we haven't seen hair nor tail or him except for meals, and he doesn't even speak then.' Vernon was babbling now, all thoughts of his dignity gone.

The look on Remus' face, previously calm with a look of steel in his face now took on a slightly look of concern. 'You say he's been up there for four days, Vernon?'

Vernon nodded, his double chins wobbling as he jerked his head up and down frenziedly. He was desperate to get away from this particular freak. Remus looked thoughtful; he turned away from Vernon and knew that it was his duty to help Harry through this difficult time. He would be thanked for it later. He turned back to Vernon.

'Tell me, Vernon, did you make him do chores when he came here during the summers?' Remus' voice was steady; the previous hint of danger had disappeared, replaced with curiosity.

Vernon's chest puffed out in slight pride. 'Of course, the boy was put here without our permission. Your headmaster just dumped him on us without even consulting us or thinking about what we were meant to do with him. We had hardly enough money to look after Dudley, let alone another one who wasn't even our own. I and Petunia decided that the boy would have to make up for this through work. We gave him what we felt he could handle, especially with his..._freaky _abilities.'

Remus felt a sneer almost crawl across his face as he realized the pure pettiness of the man in front of him. How Harry had ever survived his childhood in a place like this...it was disgusting. Not even Lucius Malfoy would've condemned a child of his enemy to a place like this; it went against everything that most wizards believed in. It was a sad fact, but most wizards and witches felt themselves superior to Muggles, hell, even Remus himself felt that way at some times, even though he was what was regarded as a vicious animal that ought to be put down in a blink of an eye.

It was partly now why Remus was hating himself for what he was about to do, but he knew that Albus Dumbledore would agree with him, it was necessary for Harry to get over this depression that he was in. There were plenty of examples of people breaking out of depression through various things, and he was pretty sure that working would do something like that. But that didn't mean that he had to like it though.

'Vernon, I have a task for you. As I'm sure you've guessed Harry is not his usual self. I and others wish to break him out of this. We believe that the best way to do this is through chores. Can I assume that in light of our previous conversation you've refrained from doing so?' As Vernon nodded, Remus continued. 'Assign him tasks; keep him distracted from thinking about anything else. Do you understand me?'

With another nod from Vernon, Remus turned to leave. As he made it to the front door, he hesitated and looked up the stairs to where Harry was. 'Please God, tell me I've done the right thing,' Remus whispered as he turned and left the Dursley's doorstep.

As Vernon slammed the door quietly behind Remus, he suddenly turned on his feet and with a gleeful expression, half ran; half waddled to his bedroom where he knew that Petunia would be busy working on the bedclothes like a proper woman ought to be doing.

'Petunia, darling!' Vernon cried out in joy as he spun her around.

'Vernon!' Petunia giggled with shock as she was spun around. 'Whatever's going on?'

'You know that person at the door?'

'Yes, what about him, dear?'

'It was one of those freaks at the door, apparently the boy hasn't sent out any letters to those freaks like he was supposed too.'

'What?' Petunia's face suddenly burned red with anger. 'How dare that boy, after everything we've do-'

'Yes, that's what I thought as well, but apparently they don't even care! They've given us permission to work the boy to the bone if we want without any reprisals! We can set him any job we want and he'll have to do it!'

Petunia's head suddenly burnt with all the different ideas and jobs that she could whip up for the boy to do. 'No reprisals?'

'No reprisals!'

'When should we start?'

Vernon looked tempted to say right that second, but as he looked outside and took into account the darkening light, he realized that there would be no point in getting the boy to work now as he would be able to stop within an hour. He turned back to Petunia, his face slightly downcast. 'We'll set him to work tomorrow, my love.'

Petunia and Vernon both grinned with glee as thoughts of jobs entered their heads. The rest of the summer was sure to be very, very difficult for the _freak_.

--

Harry sighed as he once again applied yet another slick of paint to the garden fence. He had done this very task no more than a few hours ago, yet his Uncle Vernon had ordered him to do it again, stating that it was a rubbish job. Ever since that fatal day, just three days ago, he had been working non-stop for the Dursleys.

He had been lying on his bed, anticipating yet another day of just lying there, thinking of nothing when suddenly, his door had burst open and Uncle Vernon burst in the room and started yelling at him. Apparently, his Uncle Vernon had enough of his "lazing about", and would not put up with it anymore. He had then been picked up by his shirt and marched downstairs. He had then been handed a mop and was ordered to mop the kitchen floor. Ever since then, from 8 till 7, he had been given tasks and jobs. If he hadn't completed them in time, then he would have to continue. On the off-chance that he did manage to complete these jobs, he would then be told to leave the house for a couple of hours to go whether he wanted. That wasn't so bad; he often went around the town. It astonished him that there was so much in the town that he simply hadn't noticed before. The people, however, had very much left to be desired. The rumors that the Dursleys had spread about him had made their mark on the townspeople. If he went into a store, there would almost certainly be a shop assistant following him discreetly, watching to see if he took anything.

But even so, he was still content to simply just wander and browse the items, even if he couldn't buy them. Of course, it was made worst by Dudley and his little gang. Although Dudley had ignored him thanks to last year, he was still prone to set his gang on Harry from afar, not wishing to take part himself. That had caused him to start running, and there had been muscles starting to develop slowly, although he didn't expect it to last long when he returned to Hogwarts.

But at the moment, he was still stuck in the garden doing work for his relatives. He hated them at times. At least, he used to at any rates. These days he was just walking along without any particular thoughts in his head. He was so miserable these days. Practically everything reminded him of Sirius, the dog that went with its owner on a walk every day at four in the afternoon, the clouds that look like a dog, hell, even the color black made him feel down at times.

'Hey, freak!'

Harry didn't bother looking up; no doubt it was Dudley who thought him clever enough to come up with an insult like that.

'Oi, freak, I'm talking to you!'

Harry continued to ignore him.

'Have you been crying again, Potter? Have you been crying into your pillow? "Cedric, oh Cedric, don't hurt Cedric", whose Cedric, Potter? Your boyfriend?'

The raucous laughing of Dudley made Harry's blood boil; he was starting to feel something other than pain and agony for once. But he kept it down, he kept looking at the fence that he was painting, hoping that Dudley would lose interest in him and leave him be.

'Hey, Potter, where's _Mummy and Daddy_? Did they leave you? They didn't want you, _freak_. Your worthless, Potter. No one wants you; no one likes you, we all ha-'

Harry snapped. He leapt to his feet, swirled around and holding the bucket of paint, flung it into Dudley's repulsive, ugly face. Dudley immediately screamed and started clawing at his eyes, rubbing at it frantically. Harry suddenly panicked as he saw a ripple of what looked like a disillusion charm. Realizing that Dumbledore was keeping his dogs on his scent, Harry lost his temper fully, and leaping over the half painted fence, he ran through the streets, knocking down bypassers, ignoring their cries and shouts. He would lose them; he would not stay any longer in a house of hate.

Already though, he could feel exhaustion approaching him. He felt a great tiredness spread through his limbs, through his aching legs and his weary arms that felt like lead. He hadn't eaten much today, only a piece of bread that was hardly fresh. He had to stop, to sit, to lie down. He jogged into an alleyway, his breath panting like a dog, his legs screaming for peace. He felt his legs collapse under him, a great feeling of release spreading through his body as he allowed himself to go numb. He was tired, so very tired. He would close his eyes, yes, just close his eyes and have a nice sleep. He was entitled, and then, then he would do something else...yes, leave...home...mum...dad...

As Harry allowed the blackness to take him, he didn't feel what it was he was lying on. A silver coin, ancient in its style and its words. It felt the beating of a heart directly above it, it glowed red, hot red. It changed color, its temperature rising steadily, a hundred, five hundred, ten thousand...it's previously dull red had turned a sparkling beaming white, hidden only by Harry's body.

It started to burn, burn into his body. The pain was so great that it became numb to Harry; his nerves simply were incapable of feeling such a feat. His skin and flesh melted like butter against a hot knife, only to regrow at a rapid speed as soon as the coin had burnt its way through it. It continued through the body, corrupting the cells that it encountered, changing the very biology of Harry to its suiting. As it made its way through the body, it eventually reached the perfect area in which it would grow.

The brain.

Yes, this would make an excellent host for Naamah. And she would prosper once again.

**Hogwarts, Staff meeting**

Professor Trelawney sighed, tapping her feet and staring into the distance of the staffroom. Today was the monthly staff meeting, even though there was no school to actually talk about. In short, it was boring and pointless. The other teachers were babbling on about their own classes and what new parts in their subjects they wanted to teach.

Of course, _saint _Dumbledore would listen to them and then respectfully and sadly shake his head, denying them their new works for whatever reason. She had done the same at one point; she had such _grand _ideas for Divination. She knew that they would work and that a new generation of Seers would emerge to assist the Wizarding World. But no, according to Dumbledore, the school couldn't pay for all that.

She hated her students at times. They constantly mocked her work, her heritage. She tried so hard to help the students widen their minds, think of the supernatural. But so many of them just didn't have the correct aptitudes to do so. They chose to stay with their books, to use their wands for everything, foolishly believing everything that is written is correct. But there were forces out there that weren't marked, that wizard kind didn't or doesn't want to know about.

As Flitwick asked another question to Dumbledore, Trelawney suddenly felt a little funny. Quite queasy in fact…suddenly, blackness took her.

Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers suddenly stopped talking as they watched in amazement as for the third time in her life, Trelawney made a prophecy.

_And as the Chosen One suffers under the wrath of the Dark Lord,_

_So falls love, happiness and light,_

_A new Dark Power arises, yet it does not fight for dark,_

_The god's have chosen,_

_A boy falls to darkness,_

_And yet he will be happy,_

_As the Dark Lord falls_


	2. A new ally

Chapter 2, Harry meets a new friend

Chapter 2, Harry meets a new friend

Hey, just to let you know, sentences begining and ending with "" will be Naamah speaking. Also, because of my lack of knowledge of the Dresden Files, I'm assuming that some of the demons call their hosts beloved. If i'm wrong, then I apologise, but even so I won't be changing anything. Also, there will be a few other groups (The Forsaken Werewolves) so it ties in with the wizarding world.

The Chapter will also mainly be a description of the creatures and organizations that exist in the world, so if you don't want to read it, don't.

Suddenly, just as the coin burnt it's way into Harry's brain, it stopped and a terrible screaming seemed to erupt from the brain as it was repulsed out of Harry, burning it's way out of his skin. Naamah had just been burnt heavily by what appeared to be a shield surrounding him. It was clearly ancient magic, having been brought up by a powerful emotion at the time of that person's death.

But even though Naamah had been repulsed, she had still left enough of her essence in Harry to talk to him. And even perhaps get him to accept her into his body. Suddenly, feeling him stir, she used her limited powers and levitated the coin into Harry's hand.

Harry groaned as he awoke from what felt like a terrible nightmare. He remembered nothing but a searing pain, almost to painful to feel, yet all the same was still there. What tricks had Voldemort done this time to him? Had he accessed him through his scar? Harry rubbed it absentmindedly.

_"Actually, beloved, that wasn't __Voldemort__."_

Harry cried out in shock as he heard a voice in his head. Voldemort was in his head!

_"Did you just purposely ignore me, beloved? I just told you that that wasn't __Voldemort__, does he have a voice of a woman? I agree that he looks the part with his robes, but then again, that can be said for most of the male variety of the __Wizarding__ world."_ The voice was clearly amused.

'Who the hell are you?' Harry cried out, looking around the alleyway, hoping to see who it was talking to him. His wand was out in his hand, pointing in practically every crook and nanny.

_"I've had many names, beloved, but you may call me __Naamah__."_

'Oh yeah, well where the hell are you then, "Naamah"?'

The voice chuckled. _"I'm right here."_

'Where?'

_"In your head."_

Harry froze in shock. This wasn't meant to happen, who was this person, this Naamah?

'Um, well, if your in my head, I don't suppose you could get out of my head?'

This time the voice definately had a undertone of great amusement. _"I'm afraid not, Beloved, I am bonded to you until either you die or I chose another host to occupy."_

'Right...' Harry was going to have to talk to Dumbledore about this, he couldn't afford any distractions while he was engaged in a war with Voldemort.

_"There would be very little point in doing so, beloved. Your stuck with me."_

'Ok, how the hell did you get in my head anyway? I think I would've remembered something like this.'

_"Because my coin, the item that I am possessed in, is currently in your possession."_

'What? What bloody coin?'

_"Why, the coin that your holding in your hand right now."_

Harry looked at his hand that was clenched up, with a heart full of waryness, he opened it slowly, before instantly throwing a coin on the ground, leaping back from it. Maybe that had got rid of the voice.

_"Nope, still here."_

Bugger.

--

After several hours of questioning, Harry had finally found out several things about the voice, or Naamah , as she wanted to be called.

She was a demon, had existed on the earth for countless centuries, was part of 30 demons on the plain and was generally neutral in the powergames that the Demons delighted to take part in amongst themselves and in the Muggle world. Of course, there were plenty of other groups as well. From simple questioning, Harry had found out more about the world that he ever would have from Professor Binn, who Naamah, when she had found out about him and casually dismissed him as a man who was too boring for both heaven and hell, which was why he was a ghost.

To Harry's amazement, he had found out that there were other types of wizards and witches in the world, not just the kind that he had been exposed to. The group that he had been exposed to was a major one, but were generally looked down upon because of their use of wands to use raw magic. "True Wizards", as they termed themselves, used raw magic without the use of any applicants.

They were organized into a group, known as the White Council, which was their main government like the Ministry. They protected everyone, Muggles included, from abusing magic and fought against creatures that wished humanity harm, which they drastically included demons in. Just by looking at him, a member of the White Council, or one of their "army", the Wardens, they would know that he was possessed and would elimate him quickly.

There were two other major groups that were looked down upon by his group of Wizards as well, Werewolves and Vampires, two of the most traditional enemies of wizarding kind, hunted down by both the True Wizards and the Wand Wizards.

There were four major courts of Vampires, all of them made up of different Houses. They were known as the White Court, the Red court, the Black court and the Jade court. Very little was known about the Jade Court, even to Naamah, as they were one of the most secretive courts.

The first court, the White court, were the most human-like group of vampires. And it wasn't just vampires that they included. Also amongst their ranks were Dementors, vampires who had "transcended" to a higher plane of life. Unlike most vampires, they were born a vampire, not created. They were fully human beings until a certain time of maturity where they turned into Vampires. Of course, their major weakness was true love. Humans who had just recently fallen into love were highly resistant to the White court's methods. They were manipulators, not fighters, however, and they liked to avoid outright conflicts.

The Red court were definately not human-like. Instead, they were slimy-bat creatures that hid themselves behind human costumes made of human skin that was used to trick their prety into being comfortable. They were incredibly strong and fast and could shake off any injury quickly. They were vulnerable to sunlight, however, and they could turn humans into vampires.

The Black court was the most well known kind of vampire. They were reanimated bloodthirsty corspes. They were incredibly strong, but they had to sleep in their native soil. They were weak to garlic, objects of faith and sunlight. However, unlike other vampires, the Black Court were able to use magic. Luckily, however, they were the smallest and weakest of the four courts, and so were generally disregarded.

Werewolves, however, were not organized, and generally moved on their own or in small packs. There were four kinds of wolves, the Classic werewolf, the Hexenwolf, the Lycanthrope, Loup-garou and the final group, the Forsaken.

The Classic werewolf was someone who actually used magic to turn themselves into a wolf, although magic generally wasn't needed once you learnt the spell. The mind was unaffected, but the physical body was. Unlike werewolves, they could reassume their natural forms as humans whenever they wished.

A Hexenwolf was a person who used a talisman with powerful magic to transform itself into a huge wolf, and they would become more powerful and larger than a natural wolf, they would possess speed, strength and ferocity. They could be killed with normal weapons, and can be forced to transform back into human form if the talisment was removed from them.

A Lycanthrope was a person who was a natural medium or channel for a spirit filled with rage to possess. They were born with the ability, however, they do not actually transform into a werewolf, but gain it's strength instead. They become more aggressive, stronger and more resistant to pain, injury and sickness.

A Loup-garou was amongst the worst kind of werewolves. They were cursed by someone, usually a powerful sorcerer. At every full moon, they were possessed by a wolflike demon. They became mindless killing machines with supernatural speed, strength and ferocity. They are immune to poison, recover from most injuries almost instantly and are invulnerable to attacks on the mind, such as Legimancy. They can, however, die from weapons made of silver that are inherited from family members.

The final group, the Forsaken, are those generally ignored and attacked on sight in most parts of the world. They transformed every full moon, and were generally unable to control themselves. From the description that Harry received from Naamah, he got the impression that Lupin was amongst those who were termed "Forsaken".

The biggest danger, however, to Demons was not any of those. In fact, they generally got on fine with them. No, it was the legendary Order of the Cross. Three members of the Cross were dedicated to destroying all demons and locking them away for all of eternity. Their swords were made from the three nails of Christ's crucifixion. Anyone who was involved with a demon, host or not, would be declared an enemy of the Cross and would be executed. Harry himself would be named one just because he had been "touched" by one of them.

'So, basically,' Harry said, 'I'm going to be hunted down if I'm ever seen by one of your enemies, right?'

_"Correct, and let's face it, at this time you'd be no match for any of them. However, if you accept me into you, I promise to you that I will give you great powers for just a small price."_

'And what might you give to me then?'

_"You will be able to resist pain, become a immortal and your strength, both physically and magically will greatly expand. Not to mention you will be able to access great treasures of mine that I've had since the start of the very world, all of them greatly outnumber your own account in the __Wizarding__ bank, __Gringotts__. Actually, I was one of the first people to invest in that bank, something that was a very risky venture in those days, especially after the Great War."_

'Well, that sounds really interesting, and useful as well, especially with my prophecy, I assume that you've plundered my mind,' Harry sounded bitter.

_"Yes, beloved, I did find the prophecy, and I must say, it sounds like a load of shit to me."_

Harry chuckled, 'yeah, I agree with you actually on that point.'

_"I do agree, however, with your headmaster on some points. Love is a powerful magic, if outdated greatly, however, in your case I don't sense anything that can help you in a fight against this __Voldemort__, especially if he is as powerful as he is."_

'Well, you're the demon, what is this secret power?'

_"Me."_

'You?'

_"Yes, think about it, The Power that He knows Not", I hardly think that __Voldemort__ will know that you have me with you, let alone the powers that I offer. There are a great many things I can do for you and help you with. Do you really think that the war will end with __Voldemort__ against you? He has a great amount of resources, werewolves, vampires, giants, just to name a few! I have allies who can assist you. The thing you must realise now is that this war is no longer going to be limited to England, or __Wizardkind__. This is going to involve the True Wizards, the Courts and even my kin. If the war get's bad enough, even the __Muggles__ will intervene, and their weapons are vastly superior to anything we could throw at them. Do you really believe that __Voldemort__ would be able to stand up to a nuclear strike? Or even a bomb? The __Wizarding__ world relies upon stealth and secrecy, without it, well, it will create a huge worldwide war."_

_"And the pivot of the war rests on your shoulders. It is cruel for a mere boy, still so young, to have been marked and mutilated in his childhood. You have been robbed of so much. And even now, while you were lying in your bed, your thoughts resting on Sirius Black, people have been dying. __Voldemort__ is not resting, he is not staying back, he is leading from the front, creating examples for his people to follow. He has been meeting with people and with creatures, both those of this world and not of this world. Do you honestly believe that the war is limited to you and him?"_

_"No answer? Of course not, because you know that what I tell you is correct. I do not lie to my hosts, I do not manipulate them, I am straightforward and I tell you what needs to be done. Your headmaster is guilty of all of those things. Do you really believe that everything that has happened to you has happened by coincidence? A small example of that would be during your third year, and when Sirius Black made his first attempt to enter __Gryffindor__ common room. Do you think he didn't know about it? Surely one of your many portraits would have seen him and told the headmaster immediately. You have been led to believe many things, Harry, but are those things correct?"_

_"Oh yes, he likes you, dare I say even sees you as a grandson to a degree. But has he prepared you? Has he given you extra lessons outside of your normal lessons? Do you know any real spells that are not taught to the average __Hogwarts__ population?"_

_"No. You haven't."_

_"But I can do all that. I can train you, I can show you arcane spells that no one alive knows about. I can give you everything. And all but for a small price."_

'And that would be?'

_"Your soul."_

'What?!'

_"Harry, let me ask you something. Do you consider yourself above other people?"_

'What kind of question is that?'

_"Indulge me."_

'Of course I don't!'

_"So then is your soul being removed really worth the deaths of all those thousands of people who will die in the time it takes to train you, if that even happens?"_

Harry became silent, his thoughts pondering what Naamah had just said. Was his soul really worth all of those people's deaths? Hewas foremost a weapon. Harry had long acknowledged that before his fifth year. It was exceedingly obvious what they were talking about when they were mentioning guard duty and a weapon. Oh, the others may have drawn their conclusions that they were talking about the Department of Mysteries, but were they? Harry found it extremely hard to believe that the Unspeakables would've allowed the Order of the Phoenix, a group that hadn't even been acknowledged by the Ministry, to guard the Department. He found it even harder to believe that the Unspeakables would've allowed them _anywhere _near the Department. After all, who knew what really went on in the Department?

And if he was a weapon, surely the purpose of a weapon was to defeat it's enemy at any cost possible. Was the loss of his soul really worth the deaths of all those people? And if Naamah was right, then wouldn't he be allowed to live for ever? Maybe, just maybe it would be worth it.

He had no choice.

He picked up the coin.

And screamed as the coin suddenly burnt itself into his hand, before disappearing into the depths of his body. He would become the _Host_.


End file.
